


A Shrinking Violet

by Ohlookitstomorrow



Series: Violet's, Tiara's And Desire [1]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Hecate is a florist, PWP, Pippa is a masseuse, Pippa knows her greek mythology, Sexual Content, The florist x masseuse AU that nobody needed, This has been circulating my mind for a month, and of course i had to go and include Hecate's praise kink, but hopefully this will be the first instalment of a series?, lesbians being extra gay, not really a whole lot of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 17:45:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16644866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohlookitstomorrow/pseuds/Ohlookitstomorrow
Summary: Reading the unscripted meanings of fauna, was something Hecate Hardbroom was well versed at, one may even say she had a talent for it. But when it came to practising the art with another, Hecate never failed to fall short of the mark. Much more content to stay in the safe space of her work or her home rather than anywhere else, if it wasn't for Ada and Dimity, Hecate would have been termed a strange recluse with only her cat for company, long ago.So when she finds herself in the unfamiliar setting of a massage parlour, it is conceivable to believe it was not her idea, nor was she present of her own free will. That was until she'd met Pippa, a woman with a welcomed love of violets.A conversation about flowers and poetry, leads an uneventful massage to take a very different path.





	A Shrinking Violet

**Author's Note:**

> ‘What if Hecate went for a massage and the massuese was Pippa?’ 
> 
> This idea has been racing round my mind for the better part of a month. Seriously, I've hardly been able to sleep all week thinking about it and even I thought it was a bit too absurd but more for my own sanity than anything else, I decided to write it and this is what happened. 
> 
> Fair warning, this is sexually explicit and whilst I've written a decent amount of smut, it’s always been in the context of an established relationship. This isn’t that. This is two people who meet for the first time and somehow have a connection and...things happen. It’s not devoid of feelings however, it does have its fair share of fluff and I think I'm quite happy with how it turned out. Anyway, if you’re still here and have managed to read through my ramblings, then please proceed and enjoy all that is: Hecate (extraTM) Hardbroom and Pippa Pent-angel.

One would not suspect it, but the art of floristry was rather taxing on the body. Being on one’s feet a majority of the day, constantly stooping to make sure each bud was arranged perfectly. After almost twenty years in said profession, a dull ache in Hecate’s back was ever-present and souring her mood even further than usual. It was either that, or the fact that Hecate fell asleep on her hard, leather couch, most nights. 

She was trying her hardest not to let any sign of discomfort breach her stony expression as she sat on the wooden bench of the coffee shop. Keeping track of the conversation flowing between the two women aside her was proving more difficult than normal, the urge to throw sarcastic barbs into the mix, was strong and only the bitter warmth of her drink, burning the tip of her tongue, prevented such a thing. 

Usually, she was quietly grateful for Ada’s companionship and could even tolerate the loud presence of Dimity. Today however, she was cursing her friends (she could call them friends, couldn’t she? They’d known each other for a good nine or ten years) persistence in making sure she socialised at least once a week. 

Dimity had informed her that awkwardly taking customers’ requests and often telling them that roses were over-rated (despite them, secretly, being her favourite) was not what most people would class as socialising. Ada had been very unhelpful in her agreement. 

The two women were the only other beings she spent any time with outside of her shop, unless one counted Morgana, her cat, who was possibly, just as anti-social as her mistress. Hecate had, at first, been annoyed with the constant visits from the chocolatier next door. Ada Cackle had attempted to use Hecate as a guinea-pig for her latest confections, and when she had discovered Hecate’s distaste for anything overly sugared, she’d tried everything to find one sweet-treat the younger woman would enjoy. 

Ada had been coming into her flower shop for at least six months before she offered Hecate something she found agreeable. A thin layer of the darkest chocolate, spiced with a hint of chilli, covering a light, slightly sour, fondant of strawberry. Afterward, Hecate had rather begrudgingly accepted the older woman’s invites for coffee and rare dinners. Ada had a kindness to her that Hecate had seldom received, and in turn, she’d grown rather fond of the odd, plump woman, always dressed in the most outlandish knitwear. 

When Ada had told her, she’d hired a personal trainer, Hecate had not expected a woman in sky-blue gym-wear to be seated next to her friend when she entered the coffee shop one Friday afternoon. The two had never actually made it to their work-out and Hecate only raised a perfectly, arched eyebrow at the large slice of cheesecake sat before them. 

The addition of Dimity was a completely new experience for Hecate. Dimity Drill was lively, enthusiastic and full to the brim with confidence, the type of girl that whispered taunts behind Hecate’s back throughout school and university. It was to be expected that Hecate would approach Dimity’s offer of friendship with apprehension but despite the two having nothing in common, Hecate found the personal trainer to be a genuine person who actually tolerated her company. 

However, Hecate was constantly declining Dimity’s offers to accompany her on a ‘night out’. A nightclub full of drunken imbeciles, grinding alongside thumping music, was a far cry from Hecate’s comfortable nights of a good book, the light of the fire and a glass of deep-red. 

“You’re even quieter than usual today, HB.” 

The scathing look Dimity was gifted in return, prompted her to ask seriously, “is everything alright?” 

“Fine.” Was all Hecate managed to bite out, her hands clasped together firmly, attempting to stave off the want to cradle the small of her back. 

“Hecate,” it was Ada’s turn to intervene, “come now, we know you’re not fine. You’ve been snappy all week, perhaps we can assist you?” 

“Come out of that huff and let us cheer you up.” Dimity’s attempt to lighten the mood proved futile but the conversation was enough to allow Hecate to share her problem. 

“You’ve been worried to tell us you’ve a sore back?” The laughing eyes of Dimity were most unwelcome. To Hecate Hardbroom, admitting any sort of weakness was an extremely rare and difficult fate. 

“No. I just saw no point of whining. There’s nothing I can do, I'll just have to put up with it.” 

“Have you ever had a massage?” Questioned, Dimity. 

“Why on earth would I wish to have another person rub their hands all over my back?” For Hecate, the thought of any physical contact, caused a slight tremor to overtake the hands that held the cup in front of her. 

“It can be rather pleasurable...” Dimity’s eyes were filled with a wicked mirth that did little to quell Hecate’s unease. “I know a nice place and they’re great at what they do. Remember when I pulled my hamstring last year?” Both Ada and Hecate nodded at this, Dimity had milked her injury for all it was worth, but in retrospect, the treatment she had received had done wonders, Hecate thought it had been due to physiotherapy, obviously not. “Well, I had several appointments there, and afterward my leg was completely fine, better than before in fact.” 

 

XXX 

 

The ache of Hecate’s back only increased over the next week and at her friends constant prompting, and Dimity’s meddling, Hecate now found herself in the waiting room of an establishment she never thought she’d find herself in. 

The scent of luxurious oils and skin products, coupled with the low lighting, was intended to put customers at ease and assist them in relaxing. It’s affects however, were lost on Hecate. The dark-haired woman was unable to stop the jump of her leg. She had gotten to her feet, ready to flee when a woman with golden hair dressed in a bright pink tunic and skin-tight, white jeans, stepped into her vision and called her name. 

The wind was completely knocked out of Hecate’s body, it was as though she’d walked right into the brick of a wall. Pippa (as read the woman’s name tag) was perhaps the most beautiful vision ever to grace Hecate’s vision. The complete opposite of Hecate, Pippa was like the rose to her thorns. 

“If you’ll follow me, we can get you ready for your treatment?” 

Pippa’s voice was smooth as silk and Hecate was unable to stop the imagining of what it would sound like, breathless and tangled in sheets just as soft. 

There was no way Hecate could enter a room with this woman, completely alone. 

“I don’t think...I...In fact, I've changed my mind-” 

The blush that creeped upon Hecate’s neck, felt like fire. Her embarrassment filled the waiting room like the scent of the oil. 

“Don’t be silly,” Pippa soothed, encroaching upon Hecate’s personal space, “you’re safe in my hands.” A soft, smooth hand, nails perfectly manicured (and surprisingly short) came to cradle the crook of Hecate’s arm, it was accompanied by a wink that caused an audible gulp of air to come from Hecate. “Let’s see if we can sort that back of yours, hm?” 

Against all of her instincts and better judgement, Hecate found herself being led into a room lit only by candlelight, soothing music of chimes, the only sound apart from her ragged breathing. 

“I’ll leave you to undress and get yourself comfortable on the table and I'll be back in a few minuets, alright?” 

“Undress?” Hecate’s dark eyes were blown wide, it had been an awfully long time since she’d bared any skin in front of another. Perhaps it had been too long, but even then, Hecate had never been comfortable with anyone’s gaze upon her. 

Pippa was nothing if not understanding. “Is this your first massage?” 

At Hecate’s nod and murmured yes, Pippa smiled sweetly. “I thought so, you have nothing to worry about, I'll talk you through everything and make sure your happy with what I'm doing. You don’t have to take off all your clothes, most people keep their underwear on but perhaps, if we’re to focus on your back, it might be best to remove your bra?” 

There was something about this curious woman, that allowed Hecate to trust her, she felt far from comfortable, but she did believe Pippa would do anything she could to calm her nerves. 

When the door clicked shut, signalling Hecate was alone, she started undressing with shaking hands. The dark-grey pinafore and black polo-neck left Hecate in nothing but her lingerie. Anyone who knew her and had seen how uptight and closed-off she was, first-hand, would be completely and utterly shocked to learn that Hecate Hardbroom enjoyed the pleasure of silk and lace against her skin. Although she was the only one to ever see her intimate wardrobe, there was something uplifting and slightly titillating about the knowledge of what she wore underneath her high collars and long hemlines. 

After removing her stockings one by one, Hecate took a deep breath and freed her breasts from the confines of her bra. The sensitive skin of her nipples trailed over the rough terrycloth as she moved to lay face down on the massage table. 

Every fibre of her being was on high alert as she waited for Pippa to return, counting each measured breath. In, hold, and out. Finally, Hecate heard the door opening and the soft pad of feet, her eyes locked onto the softer brown of the blonde’s, the connection was electric and only Hecate’s self-consciousness pulled her away. 

“Is it alright if I call you Hecate?” Pippa asked softly, Hecate was pretty sure she’d said something else also, but if she had, it had passed over her head during her attempt to tamper her nerves. 

“Y..yes”, she managed to stutter. “What should I call you?” 

“Pippa,” laughed the other woman, whilst arranging a few bottles on the cabinet on Hecate’s left. “I’m just going to start with a light, lavender oil on your shoulders, is that alright, Hecate?” 

The thought of physical contact with Pippa so soon, sent Hecate’s mind into an emotional spiral. She could not comprehend her feelings at all, the thought of actually going through with an act that in Hecate’s view, constituted as extremely intimate, frightened her immensely. However, there was a long-supressed voice, laced with desire, in the back of Hecate’s mind that wished for nothing but the soft touch of Pippa. 

Hecate’s discomfort must have been obvious to the masseuse and her attempts to calm her client, were much appreciated. “Perhaps, we can have a conversation whilst we work?” 

“I...I’m not known to be an expert conversationalist, but I think that would help, thank you, Pippa.” The name rolled from her tongue with a surprising ease, each syllable felt like a drop of wine on her taste-buds. 

“I’m sure we’ll do fine,” Pippa said, her voice lowering to mirror the calm, almost sensual ambiance of the room. “I’m going to place my hands on your shoulders now, is that okay?” 

Trying not to overthink the possible innuendo’s correlating to Pippa terming them as ‘we’, the only response Hecate could give was a breathed ‘yes’. 

As slim fingers brushed the very tips of her shoulder blades, a soothing warmth accompanied with the relaxing scent of lavender, enveloped Hecate completely. Pippa’s hands slid over tense muscles, effortlessly. Each trail, rub and press of knowing fingertips, left sensitive gooseflesh in their wake. 

The tenderness and hesitancy with which Pippa touched her, bought a small lump to Hecate’s throat. Although this apparent reverence was something Pippa almost definitely showed the majority of her clients, Hecate could not help the swell of emotion swirling inside her. Despite having very few instances to base a point of reference, Hecate knew she had never been shown this amount of care and compassion. 

This interaction may have meant nothing to Pippa, but to Hecate, that was most definitely not the case. 

“Hecate, I’ve never met a Hecate before.” Pippa’s voice was light although the touch she placed on the top of Hecate’s back, grew in firmness. “Hecate: Greek Goddess of witchcraft, am I right?” 

Ancient Greece, was the last topic Hecate would have thought the bright, bubbly, effervescent blonde to have any knowledge in. “Y...yes, my Mother was particularly interested in historical literature.” 

“It’s a beautiful name”, Pippa hummed. The touch on Hecate’s back stilled for a moment, before Pippa mused in a whisper Hecate had to strain to hear. “It suits you...” 

The breath in the brunette's body stuttered. By saying her name was beautiful and how it suited her, had Pippa been inferring that Hecate herself was...beautiful? No, such a creature of the heavens could never see anything but darkness in the tall, cold, stiff person of Hecate Hardbroom. 

Still, Hecate’s treacherous mind whispered, what if? 

“Are you a witch then, Hecate?” Pippa’s laughing comment held the slightest tint of nervousness. 

“No, I'm a florist,” Hecate blurted. 

“Hmmm, I love flowers.” Pippa lifted her hands from Hecate’s shoulders and paused for the briefest moment. “I’m going to start moving down your back now, if that’s alright?” At Hecate’s stilted nod and mumbled ascent, Pippa lifted the white towel and resettled it at the small of Hecate’s back, leaving an expanse of pale skin open to the glare of the candlelight. 

Pippa’s hands explored the nodules of tension as she continued speaking, her voice much lower and holding a slight roughness. “I think it’s interesting to note the different meanings of flowers, like the traditional red rose symbolising love.” 

“Red roses are my favourite”, Hecate confessed. “But not because of their meaning. I enjoy growing them, they need a lot of care and attention, roses. I think it painfully beautiful, admiring a beautiful, delicate rose, co-existing so harmoniously with its stem of thorns. The thorns would hold no appeal if not for the bud and the bud would not exist without its stem.” Hecate had never revealed something so deep, not even to Ada or Dimity. Pippa’s voice and presence stopped her from getting up and running for the second time that afternoon. 

“You speak so passionately, it’s lovely.” After clearing her throat stiffly, Pippa said, “violets are my favourite.” 

Automatically, Hecate’s brain churned out information. “In times of repression, women gifted violets one another to signify their desire. The symbolism is derived from a poem by Sappho, so I believe-” 

“All the violet tiaras, 

braided rosebuds, dill and 

crocus twined around your young neck” 

Pippa’s hands had skimmed Hecate’s sides in ascent as she recited. Hecate could feel the pure weight of them resting just below the swell of her breasts. 

The situation warped itself in Hecate’s eyes, leaving behind an erotic haze, coloured by a purple that could only be described as, violet. 

“I’m sorry, I studied English literature at university, poetry is perhaps my guilty pleasure and Sappho is such a mysterious figure that one can hardly stay away.” 

Hecate dared to continue this line of conversation. “The poem, is that the reason you prefer violets.” 

“Quite the opposite, actually. My preference for violet’s is the reason I enjoy the poem.” 

Hecate felt as though there may be a double entendre in Pippa’s words and she had to garner every ounce of her strength to calm her breathing at the various images and scenarios racing through her mind. Each and every one involving Pippa. All bronze skin and golden hair, hazel eyes lit with the flame of desire. 

“Would you perhaps, like to turn over, and I can work on your crown?” 

Crown. 

Tiaras. 

Violets. 

Hecate could only obey, her body heated and her thoughts far too preoccupied to test the weight of Pippa’s words. She settled on her back, clutching the towel close to her chest out of fear the blonde woman might see the hardening of her nipples. 

In such a low light, Hecate swore she could see a sheen of sweat glisten on Pippa’s forehead. The other woman certainly did not look as calm and collected as she had at the start of their session. 

Moving to the head of the table Pippa’s eyes seemed to assess the mass of raven curls, piled high atop Hecate’s head. “May I take this down?” 

Far from a woman with vanity, Hecate definitely had a self-critical view of herself. However, her hair was something she was secretly proud of. Long enough, when down it reached the top of her hips. Always soft and smooth and laden with attention every night before Hecate retired to bed. It was something her Mother had also taken great pride in, one-hundred brush stroke every night as her quiet, reserved Daughter sat at her knee. No other person had ever been granted such a privilege. The few lovers she had taken in her early twenties, had always admired. But throughout their time together, Hecate had never allowed them to touch. Her hair always remained in its customary bun. 

A whispered yes was all it took for Pippa to delve her fingers softly into the tight and controlled bun, scattering the perfect, stiff façade. With each pin the blonde removed, Hecate felt the vestige of her control ebb away. Somehow, this simple act, was the most intimate experience she had ever been party to. 

The scratch of Pippa’s blunt fingernails on Hecate’s scalp, caused the brunette to emit an uncontrolled moan, long supressed. Pippa also seemed affected, the hitch of her breath and the slight tremor of her hands as dark tresses spilled free, cascading around pale shoulders. 

“Your hair is beautiful.” Pippa breathed. 

Pippa’s words felt like praise, a concept Hecate Hardbroom was not accustomed to. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she scrunched them shut, never comfortable showing emotion and not wanting to scare the angel above her. Her tongue felt heavy as Hecate replied, “thank you.” 

Perhaps Pippa heard the emotion in Hecate’s voice, perhaps she did not, but her fingers tangled and soothed and felt, every inch of hair atop Hecate’s head and something in the brunette’s mind told her the other woman may have been enjoying this as much as she. 

“So soft...” 

This time, Hecate was sure she heard a moan accompany Pippa’s speech. It couldn’t be helped, the tear that tracked its way down her cheek could not be stopped. 

Stilling her movements immediately, Pippa voiced her concern, asking if Hecate was alright. 

“I’m fine...” Perhaps it was the physical contact, or the atmosphere in the room, perhaps it was just Pippa, but Hecate felt an overwhelming urge to just be honest with the blonde. “It’s just...it’s been a long time...since I...since someone was so close...to me...” 

“I shall count myself lucky, then.” 

That may have sounded facetious but Hecate could see, and feel, the honesty coming from Pippa. 

Pippa swallowed audibly and looked down at Hecate, directly into her eyes. “I’m sure a tiara of violets would be beautifully striking on you.” 

“I like violets...” 

The tension in the room was palpable. Hecate was unable to break it and wished, with all her might, that Pippa would do something, anything. 

“I’d like to move this lower”, fingering the edge of the towel covering Hecate, Pippa chewed on her pink, plump bottom lip. “May I?” 

The pupils of Hecate’s eyes, stretched wide and darkened, the deep-brown now nearing black, and Hecate swore she could feel it happen. Not trusting herself to speak, Hecate nodded shakily. 

“I need you hear you say it, can you do that for me, sweetheart?” 

The term of endearment and the fact that Pippa needed her to verbalise her consent, made Hecate feel cared for. Bar Ada and Dimity, no one had cared about Hecate and her feelings since the last night her Mother sat her on her knee and brushed her hair. 

“Please...” 

The room was warm and Hecate’s temperature, even hotter, but the air tickling her skin made Hecate’s nipples harden further. The towel was drawn downward to settle at the very bottom of her hips, just inches above the flesh between Hecate’s legs, which was now tingling. 

Bared so openly to another person’s gaze, for the very first time, both terrified and thrilled Hecate. Much like the mental and physical reaction of ‘fight or flight’, the two emotions fought for prominence. Thrill and elation won and a long-hidden part of Hecate was ever so thankful they did. 

With a tremble of her lip, Pippa breathed words that hit Hecate like foreign air. “So very beautiful, you’re so very beautiful, Hecate.” 

It was as though a damn had burst. All emotion tumbled from her eyes and lips. A strangled moan and a torrent of tears. 

Pippa must have recognised the disbelief etched onto every fibre of Hecate’s being. “You are, Hecate, so beautiful. A mysterious goddess... From the moment I saw you, I knew...” Tentatively, Pippa reached out a slim finger brushing the apple of Hecate’s cheek. “You don’t need to cry, darling. You are safe here.” 

“Pippa...” 

Returning to the bottle of lavender oil, Pippa asked sweetly, wantonly. “May I touch you?” 

This was no longer a simple massage, this was fuelled by desire, lust and everything that comes with it. Hecate had no idea how they got here, no idea why a woman like Pippa would want to touch a woman like her. But Hecate wanted her to, she wanted Pippa to touch her, she wanted Pippa to touch her, so very badly. 

Upon hearing Hecate’s consent, Pippa poured a generous amount of the oil onto her hands, some of it spilling onto the skin between Hecate’s breasts. Pippa’s hands followed that trail. Down her sternum, over the jumping muscles of Hecate’s flat stomach. 

Hecate’s teeth held her lip in a vice-like grip, trying and failing to hold in her sighs of pleasure. 

As Pippa’s hands started to retrace their journey, toward Hecate’s breasts, she asked, “is this alright? Does it feel good?” 

“Yes, Pippa.” 

“Good girl.” 

Words Hecate had never heard from anyone, the fact that she was somehow pleasing Pippa, filled Hecate with pride. 

As soft palms moved their attention to her breasts, Hecate had no power to stop the guttural cry of pure need. 

“Alright?” 

“Yes, Pippa.” 

Fingers brushing pale-pink nipples. Grasping softly and then, not so. A thumb and a forefinger, pinched and teased. And it all felt so good. Currents of electricity sparked their way to Hecate’s core. She shifted her hips, trying to ease some of the pressure and Pippa noticed. 

“What would you like, Hecate?” 

Hecate wished for plenty, but nothing more than to see Pippa, to see of Pippa, what Pippa could see of her. 

“Can I see you? Please?” 

The blonde moved back a step, giving Hecate a full view of her movements. With her eyes still trained on Hecate’s, Pippa undid each button of her pink tunic with deliberate slowness. 

Hecate’s mouth grew dry with hunger as soft skin, bronzed by the sun, was revealed. Pippa’s breasts, slightly larger than her own, looked absolutely magnificent covered in delicate, pink lace. Pippa’s chest looked even better, however, when said lace was removed and Hecate’s hands itched with the need to touch such a glorious sight. 

She hadn’t known she’d raised a clenched fist to do just that, until Pippa told her, “you can touch me, if you want to, Hecate...” 

Hecate’s hand shook as it was taken by Pippa’s own and placed on Pippa’s perfectly, pert chest. The contradiction of soft, soft skin and the hardness of Pippa’s nipple underneath Hecate’s palm, was almost too much. Both of their breathing was laboured and it was an equally shared experience when Pippa returned to Hecate’s own breasts. 

Even the images her imagination conjured to keep her company, late at night, could not conceive something so erotic. Nor could Hecate’s musings do the wonders of the woman before her, any justice. 

“Hecate?” 

“Yes, Pippa?” 

“Do you think it would be alright for me to kiss you?” 

“I couldn’t want anything more.” 

Immediately, Hecate blushed when she realised that she had said those words out-loud. Still, her sentiments were returned, and seemed to please Pippa. 

When their lips met, it could have been metaphorized as an opening gateway to another world. A world full of light of all colours. Especially violet. Hecate had now decided her favourite colour was violet. 

When she felt the graceful trace of a tongue along the seam of her lips, Hecate welcomed it willingly, moaning at the taste of Pippa. Pippa tasted of an undefinable sweetness, and Hecate was hooked on it, she needed to kiss Pippa just the same as she needed to breathe. 

For Hecate, it was like an awkward dance that she soon learned like a duck taking to water. It was a heady embrace, full of passion and an abundance of feeling that neither woman could put her finger on. 

Hecate still held the swell of Pippa’s breasts in her hands, and the other woman was now leaning over her, their skin almost touching, her hands clasping the curve of Hecate’s jaw, facilitating easier access to the brunette's mouth. 

Eventually, the need for air pulled them apart. But Pippa did not move far. Her lips caressed every inch of Hecate’s chin, jaw and neck in complete and utter appraisal. 

Pippa’s hands however, did venture further. Skimming all the way down Hecate’s torso, they came to rest where skin met terrycloth. Pippa’s touch was a question in of itself and Hecate was more than ready to agree. 

“Yes...yes, Pippa. Please?” 

“Such a good girl. Such a beautiful, good girl...” 

With whimpers of need and desperation, Hecate felt every inch of her hips, thighs, legs, being stroked by the roughness of the towel, until, nothing separated her from Pippa’s gaze. 

Her first instinct was to cross her legs and hide herself in embarrassment, but she could see longing and lust in Pippa’s eyes as the blonde noticed the glistening of arousal at the apex of Hecate’s thighs. 

Being uncharacteristically brave, Hecate stayed exactly as she was, watching as Pippa drank her in. Pippa herself, looked as nervous and restless as Hecate felt. Her hands fidgeted at her sides, as though it was taking considerable will power to keep them to herself. 

Taking the few steps that brought the tops of her thighs in contact with the table on which Hecate lay, Pippa breathed deeply. A hand hovered above the jut of Hecate’s kneecap. “I want to...may I...may I touch you?” 

It was the first time Hecate had observed any un-surety in Pippa’s character. Trying her best to be brave, to be good, to be brave and good for Pippa, Hecate parted her legs just enough, looked upon Pippa’s face (a sight so ethereal, Hecate would have it imprinted on her mind, her very soul, forever) and took her hand. 

As Hecate placed Pippa’s fingertips on the soft, sensitive skin above her knee, she felt a wave of wanton lust that she’d never experienced. “Yes”, she groaned, “I want that too.” 

Pippa got closer and closer to where Hecate wanted her most, with every passing second. Intricate patterns were drawn on the inside of her thighs, Hecate’s legs parting even further of their own accord, allowing Pippa to see how aroused she’d made her. A pool of wetness had gathered, escaping to coat the tops of Hecate’s thighs. Hecate couldn’t remember a time where her body had reacted so enthusiastically, but then again, Hecate had never had such a stimulus as Pippa. 

“I don’t think we’ll be needing any oil from here on in...” Pippa was now circling the skin on the very innards of Hecate’s thigh, the crease between leg and her most intimate area. The extent of her sexual desire had permeated the air, Pippa could now see, smell and feel, just how much she had turned Hecate on. 

“I’m sorry...” Unsure if her neediness and overexcitement would put the blonde off, Hecate acted on her first instinct and apologised. 

Pippa looked at her in confusion, and it took her a few seconds to grasp Hecate’s meaning. “Don’t be silly, darling. There’s nothing to be sorry for, in fact...” Moving herself within inches of her lips, Pippa whispered, “I should be thanking you...” before claiming her lips once again, this time slowly and imparting a sense of comfort and safety. 

Departing from Hecate’s lips and moving her hand through damp curls, Pippa moaned deeply. “You’re not the only one who’s excited...and seeing how excited you are, well that’s made me even more so.” 

A mixture of Pippa’s words and the finger now tracing the engorged nub of pleasure, drew a deep moan and a cry of ‘Pippa’ from Hecate’s mouth. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I have you.” 

Gathering some of the wetness collecting at Hecate’s entrance, Pippa rubbed the full of her palm, firmly, over Hecate’s nether lips. Like a flower in bloom, Hecate stretched and moved every which way she could. The heel of Pippa’s hand pressing at her clit, causing her hips to jerk with abandon. 

“What do you like, Hecate, goddess of mystery?” 

“I...” Formulating a competent sentence, at this point, was proving rather difficult for Hecate. “Inside...you...inside...” 

In complete understanding and with a look of pure fascination and admiration, Pippa slid her forefinger slowly inside of Hecate, voicing her marvel at how warm she was. How wet she was. How tight she was. And how all of this, was for Pippa and Pippa only. 

Each thrust was slow and carefully measured, allowing Hecate time to process the onslaught of sensory pleasure. She mewled and moved her hips in tandem with Pippa’s movements, only stuttering when the finger inside her curled and hit that spot. 

Sex had never been like this before. 

Quick fumbles in the dark. Hecate never allowing more than the briefest of touches. Never even removing all of her clothes. 

Hecate had never orgasmed at the hands of another. But she knew, she was ever so close to doing just that. 

She had always been attracted to women. Men had never appealed to her in any sense. Women were just too pretty. Their soft features and emotive actions. Curvaceous bodies dressed in such a way as to tease. Their scent of sweetness. Their taste... Every woman Hecate had ever seen, paled in comparison to the one who now drew her nearer and nearer to the peak of her release. Hecate desperately wanted to see, to feel, to pleasure Pippa. Unsure how to voice this she tugged softly at the belt loop of those tight, white jeans and whimpered in need, hoping Pippa, who had been so in tune with her desires, would understand. 

“You can touch, darling. It’s alright.” 

Shaking her head to try and clear her thoughts, Hecate could think of nothing more to say than ‘off’, desperately, her tone gruff and starved. 

Pupils dilating, Pippa acquiesced. White denim traversed long, luscious legs and Hecate marvelled at the patch of wetness that caused the lace of Pippa’s underwear to become almost translucent. Any man or woman would fall to their knees at such a sight and Hecate, in all her awkwardness, could say nothing more eloquent than ‘perfection’. 

Pippa gasped at this, and nodded when Hecate raised her hand, hovering over the lace that covered her centre. Pippa was not lying when she had previously stated that she too, was excited. When Hecate nudged pale-lace aside, the abundance of wetness she was met with, allowed her to slip a finger inside of Pippa, with no effort or resistance. 

Both women now touched one another with a great fervour. 

Pippa braced a knee on top of the table, allowing Hecate complete, unobstructed access. Both of her hands maintained a fast pace, two fingers from one, thrusting and curling in unison, two from the other circling and pressing down onto Hecate’s bundle of nerves. 

Hecate did not know what was the greater feeling. The feeling of Pippa pleasuring her expertly. Or, the sensation of her own hand, two fingers buried deep and thumb concentrating on Pippa’s clit. The fact that she was causing Pippa to moan her name, and even growl, allowed Hecate to feel a whole category of emotions she had previously declared off-limits. 

She must have hit a particularly sensitive spot, for Pippa shook and her thrusts became erratic. “Goodness, Hecate...so good...feels so good...good girl...” 

“Pippa, I don’t think I can... I think I’m going to-” 

“Are you ready to come, sweetheart.” 

The only response Pippa received was a strangled cry and syllables that may have been intended to sound like her name. 

“I’ll take that as a yes”, Pippa gasped. With a twist of her wrist and a swirl of her fingers she commanded Hecate to come for her. And like a good girl, Hecate obeyed. 

The most intense wave of pleasure shook her whole being. She tremored and arched her back, in a perfect, crescent moon, at the sheer force of her orgasm. Pippa continued to hold her throughout, her ministrations never ceasing until Hecate lay on the table before her, completely spent. 

Unsure of how long she had lay still, or when her own fingers had withdrawn themselves from Pippa, Hecate admired the shine of them before placing them in her mouth and savouring the very essence of a woman she’d just met this afternoon and who’d just given her the greatest pleasure she had thought was only reserved for romantic novels. 

Sweeter and more decadent than any treat, Pippa was the perfect aphrodisiac. Hecate was so lost in her exploration of taste, she almost forgot she had an audience. That was until she mourned the loss of the fingers she still held inside. Glancing up from the corner of her eye, Hecate saw Pippa do the exact same thing with the fingers she had just withdrew. She watched as pure pleasure crossed the blondes face and when Pippa locked their gazes, Hecate was hurtled back into reality. 

“I...you didn’t...I didn’t...” 

Hecate was sure she hadn’t gifted Pippa the same release as she herself had just received. This was confirmed when Pippa smiled and said, “no need to worry, sweetheart, watching you was enough and if I didn’t have another client in twenty minuets, I'd insist on taking you home with me.” 

At the mention of other clients, Hecate sat up startled. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Pippa was quick to assuage her fears, however. “It’s alright, we have time to get cleaned up, there’s nothing to worry about, Hecate.” 

Unsure of what to do now, now that the moment was over and both women would return to their usual lives in a matter of minuets, Hecate asked for such a simple request that belied her years. The shy request for one more kiss should have come from a girl in her teens, not a woman well into her forties. But Pippa didn’t seem to notice, or mind. She kissed Hecate languidly, as if they had all the time in the world and no one could burst in at any moment. 

They both readied themselves in silence, stealing furtive glances at one another. Hecate perplexed as to what could be going on in Pippa’s intriguing mind. 

“I’m not entirely sure as to what this costs...?” 

Hecate’s statement caught Pippa off guard, the blonde dropping a few of the hair pins she had been about to hand back. “You didn’t think I was going to charge you...after we...?” 

Pippa was confused and if Hecate was reading things correctly, then perhaps a tad hurt, also. She didn’t know what she had expected, but she knew when she entered the massage parlour, what now felt like hours ago, she was not expecting to meet someone like Pippa, and she was not expecting to engage in sexual relations. “I’m not sure...I don’t know how these things work?” 

“This isn’t one of those massage parlours, Hecate!” 

Blushing, Hecate asked shyly, “then you haven’t done anything like this before?” 

As soon as the words left her lips, Hecate knew they had been the wrong thing to say. “Pippa, I didn’t mean-” 

“You mean, have I ever made love to a beautiful woman I've just met, whilst she lay on my table? No, Hecate, I haven’t. You are the first, and I do intend for you to be the last.” 

Hecate didn’t know if she was allowed to feel special at that last statement, but she did anyway. 

“Seen as you offered however”, Pippa slinked toward her, a glint of mischief in her eye, “I will accept a form of payment from you; you can take me to dinner tomorrow night.” 

Dinner. With Pippa. As in a date, with Pippa? “Like a date?” 

“Yes, Hecate, ‘like a date’” Pippa laughed. 

Emboldened by the prospect, Hecate leaned forward and brushed her lips across Pippa’s, softly and briefly. 

“Alright”, she agreed. 

As her hand landed on the soft brass of the door handle that would lead her back into the real world, Pippa calling her name caused Hecate to turn back around. 

“You can also leave me a tip by giving me your number” 

 

XXX

**Author's Note:**

> So, what did you think?
> 
> I'm so intrigued to hear you guys' thoughts and opinions and especially wether you think I should turn this work into a series. This AU has taken on a life of its own and will not leave me alone, so please, let me know if you'd be interested in reading more. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for taking the time to read this, i'm posting it at 2 o'clock in the morning in the hopes that finally, i'll be a blue to get a decent night's sleep. This fandom is so amazing, and filled with the most wonderful, accepting people and i'm so happy to have become a part of it. When I watched the 2017 remake for the first time, never did I think i'd spend an insane amount of hours thinking about Raquel Cassidy's...I can't be blamed though, the woman is a marvel.
> 
> You can follow me on instagram @ohlookitstomorrow  
> and on tumblr @ohlookitstomorrowff
> 
> Catch:)


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